Vinay sat on his throne, fingers tapping impatiently against the armrest. The grand hall of his fortress was dimly lit, the flickering torches casting long shadows across the marble floors. The weight of centuries of injustice burned in his chest like a fire that refused to be extinguished. He clenched his jaw, staring at the large map spread out before him. His commanders stood in silence, waiting for him to speak.
His fury wasn't baseless. It wasn't born out of greed or ambition—it was a response to something far more personal. **Manav.** A name that had plagued his bloodline for generations. The immortal ruler who sat atop his throne, his rule stretching across centuries, untouched by the passage of time. And now, the final insult.
The cure.
Manav had invented a cure for the virus that had plagued the world, but he had given the credit to Omkar. Omkar, a man with no brilliance, no contribution, no intelligence worthy of such a feat. Something was wrong. **Something was deeply wrong.** Manav was hiding something, twisting the truth, manipulating history itself.
Vinay's eyes burned with hatred.
"This is unacceptable," he said, his voice low but carrying the weight of his wrath. "This lie cannot be allowed to stand. He has ruled for far too long."
The silence in the hall was thick, as if the very walls held their breath. His commanders exchanged uneasy glances. **They knew.** They knew what this meant. War.
One of them, a man named **Ashvar**, stepped forward. His dark eyes, filled with an unsettling calm, locked onto Vinay's. "If we attack, we must be certain. Manav has stood against empires and legends. He has endured while kings and conquerors crumbled. This is not a war we can take lightly."
"I am certain," Vinay growled. "Manav's reign must end."
Another commander, **Viraj**, a warrior as fierce as he was loyal, slammed his fist against his chest. "Then we fight, my lord. The Goodie Hunters will fall."
A slow, deliberate clap echoed through the hall.
Vinay turned sharply, eyes narrowing. Garin stood at the far end of the room, arms crossed, leaning against the stone pillar as if he had all the time in the world. There was something unreadable in his gaze, something almost… pitying.
"You are making a mistake," Garin said.
Vinay's anger flared. "Speak carefully, Garin."
Garin sighed, pushing off the pillar and stepping forward. "You think this is about Omkar? About credit for the cure? Manav has played this game far longer than any of us. If you go to war, you are playing right into his hands."
Vinay's eyes darkened. "You sound afraid."
Garin chuckled, but there was no humor in it. "Afraid? No. But I am not a fool. You are walking into a storm that you don't understand."
Vinay stood, his presence commanding. "Then let the storm come. If Manav thinks he can toy with history, let him face the consequences."
A sharp tension filled the air. The other commanders remained silent, waiting.
Garin shook his head. "You think you are fighting a tyrant. But the truth is… you are fighting something far worse."
Vinay stepped closer. "Then let me be the one to end it."
Garin held his gaze for a long moment before sighing. "So be it." He turned to leave but paused at the entrance. Without looking back, he spoke one last time.
"Manav doesn't lose wars, Vinay. He wins them before they even begin."
Then he was gone.
Vinay exhaled slowly, fists clenched at his sides. His decision had been made. The war was inevitable now.
He turned to his commanders. "Prepare the army. We march on the Goodie Hunters."
The hall erupted with the sound of warriors moving into action. Vinay stood still, staring at the map. His mind was set.
This war would not be like the others.
This time, Manav would fall.